


fuck off, dracula!

by wentzgold



Category: Fall Out Boy, Peterick - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Halloween, M/M, Making Out, Misunderstandings, Smut, Trick Or Pete, bottom! pete, matching costumes, pete is annoyed, top! patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 17:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21256637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wentzgold/pseuds/wentzgold
Summary: “You don’t look like you’re having fun,” Gabe grins, and rubs at Pete’s eyelids, “Smear the eyeliner a bit more, c’mon”“Of course I'm not, how am I supposed to pick up chicks if they all think I have aboyfriend?” Pete throws his arms out, exasperated.“You’re so dramatic, have you met him? He’s kinda your type, y’know.”That’s it. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” A scowl is etched deep on Pete’s face.Everyone thinks that Patrick is Pete's boyfriend when they show up to a Halloween party wearing exact matching costumes. Pete’s just trying to get laid.





	fuck off, dracula!

“So, tell me more about your… what was it, oh yes, fashion design,” Pete gingerly puts an arm around the girl- Pete’s calling him Angel’s- shoulder, careful not to get her wings bent. She’s very cute, blonde hair cascading down her bare shoulders, dressed in a skimpy angel costume. Pete’s eyes slip from Angel’s face to her very exposed breasts that her costume’s doing nothing to hide. He’s not listening to a word that’s coming out of the girl’s mouth.

Until he doesn’t hear the static buzz of her nasal voice anymore, and instead, a pair of blue eyes with tacky fake eyelashes blink in front of him.

“Sorry, come again?” Pete charmingly grins, showing his pearly whites. Just a few more minutes of boring conversation and he’s going to get laid. He’s sure of it. 

Instead, Angel ducks away from Pete’s arm. The loss of contact makes Pete snap back into reality.

“I _said_, You and your boyfriend’s costumes are really cute, you should totally go look for him,” she eyes Pete cautiously, as if he’s the one being a creep. “Have fun,” Angel furrows her carefully penciled eyebrows, and sidesteps to move away from Pete.

What the fuck? This whole boyfriend business is getting tiring, Pete just wants his Halloween night not to go to waste. He’s tried very hard to flirt with Angel, Pixie, Black Widow, and Sexy Witch, and they’ve all bubbled up with an excuse of Pete having a boyfriend and sidled away. He’d been 100% sure his vampire costume would be a sure way to pick up chicks at any halloween party (Those fangs!). Now, he’s not so certain.

Pete clenches his jaw. His patience is running thin, and he kinda wants to find the bastard that’s dressed like him and punch his face in. 

Someone bumps up against his shoulder. Loki grins down at him, and Pete takes a second to realize who’s under the obnoxious helmet. 

Pete exhales in relief. “Gabe! Thank god.”

“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” Gabe grins, and rubs at Pete’s eyelids, “Smear the eyeliner a bit more, c’mon”

“Of course I'm not, how am I supposed to pick up chicks if they all think I have a _boyfriend_?” Pete throws his arms out, exasperated.

“You’re so dramatic, have you met him? He’s kinda your type, y’know.” 

That’s it. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” A scowl is etched deep on Pete’s face as he bats Gabe’s hands away from his face forcefully.

“Frowny little redhead!” 

Ron Weasley doesn’t sound like Pete’s type. “Well, whoever he is, he’s destroying my chances with anyone at this goddamned party!” Pete groans, and trails off once he realises that Gabe’s gone completely silent. “...Gabe?”

Gabe’s grinning knowingly over Pete’s shoulder. Pete takes a deep breath, he’s not going to turn around. He envisions a short redhead with a bad case of acne, greasy hair, and a discount version of Pete’s vampire costume. Gross. 

Pete stays rooted to the spot, contemplating between flying into a rage and babbling insults at the guy or turning around like a sensible person.

Unfortunately, ‘Pete’ and ‘sensible’ don’t go together.

“Fuck you!” Pete spits, finally whirling around to face the boy. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

And...oh. Gabe was right, frowny little redhead, but he’s really, really fucking cute. Soft tufts of reddish-blonde hair catches the dim light perfectly. He’s pale, but not overly, a peachy complexion complementing the vampire costume perfectly. Pete’s own face is a chalky pale from several attempts at powdering. The boy’s smiling wide at Pete and waving his hand in a ‘come over’ motion.

Pete falters a little as he’s walking forward, because the closer he gets, the more little details he notices. The piercing blue-green of the boy’s eyes and plush pink lips curling upwards under fake fangs are so goddamned _attractive_ and if it were a different situation, Pete would totally be sweeping him off his feet with his smooth flirting right now. 

_Get your shit together, Pete, you hate this guy._

“Babe! Thank god you’re back, don't know what I would do without you,” the boy proclaims loudly, and practically leans into Pete and _nuzzles_ into Pete’s neck. Pete feels him grinning against his neck. Motherfucker, he's attracting more attention than when Pete outright insulted him.

“Aaaaw!” Someone gushes.

“Sooo cute! I ship it!” 

“Pete, could you kiss your man? I wanna post this on twitter!” Gabe hollers. Pete is so going to chop Gabriel Saporta into tiny little bits and bury him in this random person’s backyard.

“Are you alright with that? I’m not completely evil, you know,” the boy leans in and whispers softly, and now Pete can see soft freckles across his concerned expression. “Oh, and my name’s Patrick.” 

Pete doesn’t know how Patrick does it, but he swears his anger simmers and dies down a bit. Pete wants to say no, he really really does. But Patrick’s giving him these puppy dog eyes and his bottom lip is wet and shiny, jutted out in a pretty pout and-

“Alright, fine!” He whisper-shouts. Pete swears that Patrick positively beams. 

A slightly sweaty palm frames Pete’s cheek, and Patrick tiptoes to press his lips to Pete’s, and Pete responds, moving his lips with gentle caution. The kiss is shy and sweet, and tastes more like fruit punch and tender summer days than the powdery makeup on Pete’s face and the sweaty scent of the packed party. 

_No, no, no, no,_ Pete is supposed to be mad at him for stealing Pete’s potential chicks! He steps back with sudden force, like Patrick’s lips had just burned him and grabs Patrick’s wrist, attempting to block out the whoops and cheers (primarily from Gabe). 

“Can I talk to you for a second? In private?” Pete doesn’t wait for an answer, just pulls Patrick along as he blindly heads upstairs, with no idea where he’s going. 

-

Turns out, as Pete slams the door, that he’s pulled them both into a bedroom. And it’s a nice one at that, furnished cozily, and part of Pete wishes he’d picked a less luxurious room to get mad in.

“Sooo…. any reason you brought me into my own bedroom?” Patrick says in a bored tone.  
“Wait, what?” Two and two piece together in Pete’s mind, “This is _your_ bedroom? This is _your_ party?”

Patrick starts laughing, a bit too hard, slapping his thigh and dissolving in a fit of giggles.

“I-I’m here to tell you off! I was trying to pick up chicks and you- they kept telling me to get my boyfriend!” Pete rants, and Patrick’s laughter hasn’t ceased, seems to get louder as Pete continues.

“And-and I was really hitting it off with that Angel girl and you just- ruined it, and-”

Patrick’s full on howling with laughter now, head thrown back and body shaking uncontrollably. 

“Stop! Stop fucking laughing, Patrick!”

Pete just wants him to listen, stop fucking laughing, just shut up and liste-

“_I said stop fucking laughing!_” Pete’s shoving Patrick back, up against the wall, fists clenched tightly in the smooth velvet of the front of Patrick’s costume. Pete pauses, panting heavily, and Patrick stares back warily.

Pete thinks he imagines it, but Patrick’s gaze flicks down to Pete’s mouth. Suddenly, he’s aware of their lips being mere centimeters apart, shoulders and hips pressed against each other. _Fuck, what do I have to lose?_ is what Pete thinks as he leans in and roughly captures Patrick’s lips with his own.

“Ow, shit, take your teeth off,” Patrick winces, moving to remove his own as fake fangs clink together painfully. 

Plastic fangs are discarded on the carpet as Pete’s hands loosen their grip on Patrick’s shirt and move to his waist. Pete leans his forehead against Patrick’s, and smiles at the blue eyes before him.

“You’re so annoying,” Pete whispers, “but so pretty, too, you know that?”

Patrick responds by kissing Pete hard, eliciting a soft moan from Pete as Patrick slides his tongue along Pete’s, along the roof of his mouth and holy fucking shit Patrick’s a good kisser. Pete’s kind of embarrassed that his blood flow’s rerouted entirely south, but judging by the bulge in Patrick’s pants, they’re both in the same boat.

“Are you sure about this?” Patrick gasps, and Pete silences him with his lips again.

Pete stumbles onto the king sized bed, struggling to get rid of his cloak and elaborate costume. Patrick chuckles, and makes quick work of Pete’s clothes as Pete tries to tug Patrick’s off too, tossing them messily on the floor. 

“Fuck,” Patrick straddles Pete, running a finger lightly down tan abs and the infamous tattoo. “You look so good like this.” 

Pete doesn’t reply, just grabs Patrick’s waist and thrusts upwards, and is rewarded by delicious friction separated by two thin layers of fabric that makes Pete cry out sharply. 

“M’gonna fuck you,” Patrick growls, and his _voice_, God, Pete could come from just listening to Patrick talk like that. “So fucking hard.” 

“Enough talk, just do it already,” Pete groans as Patrick tuts his tongue and pulls a condom and lube from his nightstand. 

Pete turns over to lie on his back, kicking his boxers off. He spreads his legs and waits with bated breath as Patrick coats two fingers with lube, rubs lightly over the dark pucker of Pete’s hole and pushes in, scissoring his fingers a little to stretch Pete out.

“Okay?” Patrick asks, and Pete nods fervently, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he works a rhythm of up, down, up, down, fucking himself on Patrick’s fingers. It’s good, but he needs more, more-

“Fuck me, Patrick, now, _please_,” Pete keens.

Patrick smirks smugly as he slides his boxers down and rolls a condom over the cherry-tipped length of his cock, and lines himself up with Pete.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Pete murmurs like a prayer, and wraps his legs around Patrick’s hips.

Patrick pushes in slowly, inch by inch. Pete feels so… filled, Patrick is fucking huge. But then Patrick angles his hips upwards and starts to thrust, and _ohshitfuckholyfuckinghell_. Pete claws at the sheets, a mess of pathetic moans as Patrick fucks mercilessly into him.

“Good?” Patrick grunts.

“Good, good, so fucking- _ah_!” Pete babbles, as Patrick slams back into him, while leaning down to glide his tongue over a sensitive nipple. Pete’s going to come embarrassingly fast, he realizes, as Patrick reaches to smother Pete’s moans with another kiss, hungry and slick with spit.

“Patrick, m’close, let me come, please let me come,” Pete begs, curling a hand around his throbbing dick.

Technically, Patrick never said Pete _couldn’t_ come, but he loves how Pete’s so naturally submissive. He acts like he’s thinking it over, considering the idea of it for a second, just to see Pete whine in desperation.

“Come,” Patrick says, and Pete does, throwing his head back. Pete comes so hard he fears that he might turn blind, hands fisting the sheets impossibly tightly. Patrick fucks him through his orgasm, and he vaguely hears Patrick groaning softly as he comes too, collapsing beside Pete after throwing the used condom away.

Pete moves over, and tucks his head under Patrick’s chin.

“Didn’t take you to be a cuddler,” Patrick chuckles.

“I’m supposed to hate you,” Pete mumbles, eyelids drooping sleepily. 

“Funny how things work out, huh?” Patrick feels his own eyes slide shut as he wraps his arms around Pete, both of them dozing off silently. 

The distant sound of the Monster Mash playing downstairs can still be heard.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i hope you enjoyed this even though it's literally just smut without plot oops, it was super rushed but i managed to write it! do leave kudos/comments if you liked it <33


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